


The Panic Attack

by wolfiefiend



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 05:10:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3162464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefiend/pseuds/wolfiefiend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan has a panic attack and Phil takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Panic Attack

He doesn’t know when it started to change. Or even how. All he knows is that one minute, he feels like he’s fine. Everything is normal. And the next, it’s like he can’t breath. He’s gasping for breath, trying to stand from where he had sprawled onto the floor. He’s trying to call out, sweeping his hand along the counter for his phone. 

He was sure that he’d laid it there, he thinks he remembers laying it down because he’d been scrolling through tumblr when he’d walked into the kitchen for a drink. He needed a break from homework, it just wasn’t working tonight it seemed. So he’d laid his phone onto the counter and as he was taking a glass down, it felt like his chest was seizing up and he couldn’t pull in a breath. It was like he was constantly breathing out, but never in. 

His hand swept across something sharp, and he could faintly hear something fall to the floor in front of him. ‘Glass,’ he thought distantly. He curled his hand around a large-ish shard, contemplating tossing it away or just putting it back on the counter when he spotted his phone laying on the floor a few feet in front of him. ‘So that’s where it went.’ He mused absently. 

He reached out a hand, snagging the edge and dragging it closer. He clicked a few buttons, closing out of tumblr and pulling up his friends list. He saw Phil’s name, and hit the call button without thinking. It was only a few moments before Phil picked up. 

"Hey Dan. What’s up? Hey, did you know that- are you okay man? You’re breathing kinda funny!" Phil said. He could hear his friend moving, could hear what sounded like bedclothes moving around him. He supposed that he had been laying down. Good, that meant that he was home. 

"C-can’t breath…..kitchen……drink……" He gasped, hoping that Phil would understand. He knew that he needed help, but he felt like he couldn’t move an inch. He certainly couldn’t stand up, not even with the counters support. 

"Are you home Dan? You’re in the kitchen, right? Give me a minute, I’ll be right out. Try and calm down, just take deep breaths." Phil ended the call, and it was only moment before he could hear him running down the hall. Phil was loud, his feet stomping onto the floor as he just sat there. 

He’d curled in on himself, almost doubled over onto the floor as he waited. His breathing was just getting worse, he felt like he was chocking. Hyperventilating, he absently thought. His old English professor would have been surprised he thought. Phil skidded to a stop in front of him, falling to his knees. He immediately zeroed in the piece of broken glass laying next to him, and began to speak, his voice higher then normal. 

"Dan, what happened? Oh my god, are you okay?" He laid a hand on the glass shard, flinging it across the floor as if it had offended him or something. 

"Dan, I need you to look at me," He said. Phil’s voice was much closer now, and he struggled to lift his head. 

'Phil wants me to look at him…I'm such a bad friend….can't even move…..' “Hurts,” He gasped. He dry swallowed, twitching his head as if he meant to look up, but couldn't find the strength. He felt his friends hands on him, moving him slowly. He had to be heavy, he was nothing but dead weight right now. Phil would be so upset. 

'Why are you' “Not yelling?” He gasped, not realizing that he'd gone from thinking something to speaking it. His head lolled back as Phil set him back against the counter. 

"Why would I yell at you, Dan? I need you to answer me okay? Stay with me Dan, you gotta talk to me, okay?" He felt Phil take hold of his hand, and made a little sound of relief. His hands were cold and it wasn’t until now that he’d realized just how warm he was. He felt like he was sweating bullets and dripping ice at the same time. 

"Dan, I need to know. Did you break that glass on purpose? Did you try to use it at all?" Phil sounded worried. He couldn’t seem to get the words out, as it was he was fighting to get any breath at all. Words seemed out of the question. All the same, after what felt like an eternity, he was able to force out something resembling human speech. 

"No," he gasped. "Don’t… What ‘appended. Hurts Phil…." He felt like he was gonna pass out. His throat felt like it was closing in on itself, like his airways had decided to just give up on him.

Somehow, Phil seemed to understand. “Okay,” Phil said, with this little chuckle that Dan had long ago come to associate with Phil feeling out of place. “I think you’re having a panic attack Dan. You need to calm down, and breath. I’m right here, you’re safe here. We’re at our flat, in the kitchen. I’m right here with you. You need to breath okay?”

He felt his chest start to ease up slightly. Enough for him to take a full breath in what could quite possibly have been minutes. He was able to actually look at Phil now, without needing his head supported and wasn’t that just amazing? 

"Panic attack," he mumbled. "What for?" He twisted to the side, making it easier to look at his friend. Just because he had calmed enough he could hold his head up by himself didn’t mean it didn’t make him tired. God, how did people do this everyday? 

"I don’t know Dan. You’ve been stressed out lately. Has anything happened….anything that would cause a panic attack?" Phil asked. He wasn’t sure what could have caused this, nothing in his life and changed significantly that would cause him to panic like this.

"I don’t know Phil. I can breath now, but it still hurts. Can you get me something to drink, I don’t think I can get up just yet." He asked his friend. It was only a moment before Phil had gotten him a glass of water and was kneeling in front of him with it.

"Small sips Dan." Phil said softly. He sounded worried, and he could barely bring himself to say anything about it. He was sure that if Phil knew that he had noticed just how worried he was, Phil would only be embarrassed by it. So he did as he was told, taking small sips one after the other until Phil reached out and took hold of the glass. 

He pulled it out of his hands and set it on the floor before moving close. “Would it help if I sat with you?” He asked. “I don’t really wanna leave you alone right now, and I read somewhere that physical contact helps when you’re having a panic attack.” 

He nodded, leaning against Phil’s shoulder when he sat down by him. ‘Why did this have to happen today? There’s nothing for me to panic over, I really hope Phil doesn’t think I’m doing this for attention.’ He thought to himself. 

Phil wrapped one arm around him, pulling him closer. One of his hands seemed to gravitate towards his hair, playing with it, running the strands between his fingers. He sighed, trying to relax himself, but only managing to become hyper aware of the fact that he was straight up cuddling with his best friend. 

He started to lift his hand, meaning to try and put a little space between them, when he actually saw his hand. He was bleeding and while it wasn’t exactly gushing blood, it wasn’t a little trickle either. 

"Phil, do we have any band aids?" He asked, his voice shaky in a way that Phil had never heard before. So this was why he had asked him about the shard of glass when he first walked-well ran in. 

Phil simply said that they were in the bathroom and that if Dan wanted to try standing up they could go get them. Somehow, in his mind, that translated to grabbing a shower. It’s what he always ended up doing to make himself feel better whenever he was upset, he thought that might work now. So he nodded and allowed Phil to help him stand. 

They somehow stumbled out of the kitchen, down the hall and into the bathroom with hardly any trouble, despite the fact that Phil was pretty much carrying almost all of his weight. He pulled his shirt off while Phil pulled out the first aid kit, frowning at the surprised look on his friends face when he turned around.

"Dan, the cut is on your hand, you could have kept your shirt on you know." Phil exclaimed. He nodded, his mind feeling a little fuzzy. 

"…wanted to get a shower.." He murmured. He stood, cold hands fumbling with his belt before getting it off and letting his slightly too big pants fall to the floor. He stepped out of them, unsure why he was feeling the way he was at the moment. After he’d calmed down some from his panic attack, and was able to breath again, he’d felt fine. Why was he so shaky all of a sudden? 

Phil was growing again and he just felt like a colossal piece of shit for his friend making that face so often tonight. His eyes slipped closed briefly and a moment later everything seemed to tilt around him. He could feel himself falling, but the hands and a firm chest were holding him up. It always surprised him whenever he and Phil hugged, just how firm and solid his friends chest felt. He was glad of it tonight though, he probably would have fallen flat on his face if Phil hadn’t caught him. 

"Maybe you should hold off on that shower, Dan. You can’t even stand by yourself, I don’t think you can handle a shower right now." Phil said. He just sounded so worried, he could hardly even think about arguing with his friend. So he nodded instead, fully meaning to sit down and let Phil bandage his hand. Instead, he reached over and flicked the shower on. 

Phil sighed and pushed him down onto the toilet. He pulled his shirt and pants off, leaving his boxers on and helped him to stand. He was glad that he still had his boxers on as well, because Phil was helping him into the shower. He lowered him to the shower floor and twitched the shower curtain closed, before sitting with him. 

"If you’re so determined to get a shower, at least let me help you." Phil said softly, even as he squeezed some shampoo out into his hand, and begin to rub it into his hair. He sighed, leaning back against Phil, still shaking slightly. He barely even realized that one of Phil’s arms had winded itself around his shoulders in order to keep him upright. 

"Phil, what is even our life? Like, how’d we get here?" He murmured. He wasn’t even sure if Phil could hear him, but at least he could speak now. Phil didn’t bother to answer. He just tipped his friends head back into the spray of water, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair and picking up the bar of soap. 

He leaned his head back against Phil’s chest, as Phil begin to lather his with the soap. He sighed, the constant motion felt rather soothing for some reason. He leaned forward when Phil told him to, letting the water wash away the suds on his chest. Phil helped him to turn around and once again he was leaning against the other boy. 

Phil ran the soap over his back, in slow, gentle circles before letting it all wash away. He then maneuvered him so he was sitting against the wall and begin to run the soap over his legs. He leaned up, taking hold of his arms one by one and dragging the soap over them. Phil helped him to stand then, moving him forward so he was under the spray. Soon enough, the soap suds were gone, and Phil has shut the water off. He helped him out of the shower, almost picking him up really and sitting him on the toilet again. He draped a towel over his head, rubbing at his hair until it was no longer dripping, then ran it over his chest, back, arms and legs until he was dry. 

"Stay here, Dan. I’ll be right back. I just need to get clothes for us, and a towel for myself." Phil said. He looked almost as if he would began to panic if he moved at all, so he just nodded. 

"I won’t move," He murmured. "I’ll stay right here, Phil." And with that, Phil practically ran to the closet to dry off. He came back only a minute later dressed in sweatpants and one of his old t-shirts, with his favourite pyjamas in hand. He pulled them on, with Phil’s help as his hands were still rather shaky. 

"Do you wanna go lie down for a bit, Dan?" Phil asked. He just nodded at that, holding onto Phil’s arm as he helped him to his room. It wasn’t long before he was laying on his bed, with Phil sitting next to him. 

"Stay?" He asked softly. Phil nodded and swung his legs up onto the bed, laying next to him. It was only a moment before he rolled over, throwing one arm over Phil’s waist and one of his legs over both of Phil’s. One of Phil’s hands slid into his hair again, playing with the soft, still damp strands. He fell asleep with Phil softly whispering, "You’ll always be my best friend and I’m not gonna let anything hurt you."


End file.
